


A Tale of Starlight; Impure Intentions

by beauty_love_stardust



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Bonding, Depression, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, Forbidden Love, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Incest, Incest Kink, Loss of Control, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Parent(s), Loss of Virginity, Love, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Parent/Child Incest, Seduction, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-10-21 23:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beauty_love_stardust/pseuds/beauty_love_stardust
Summary: I’ve ached to know him since I can remember. Raced through the streets; using the speed we have in common to seek out closeness...All her life, Nora has loved him. If only she could make him understand how much.





	1. Part 1; Breakage of Innocence

_Part 1;  Breakage of Innocence._

 

* * *

 

 

 

> _It hurts when you have_
> 
> _Someone in your heart_
> 
> _But you can’t have them_
> 
> _In your arms._

 

* * *

 

 

All I’ve ever wanted is to meet him. Know him, just as well as I do Mom.

To know the muscled strength of his arms as they hoist me off the floor, the press of baby-soft petals to my cheek—even his scent that Mom always describes as nectar sweet.

I’ve recognized pictures; known bittersweet tales of his courage. His ability to zip through Central City. Saving all those in need. A hero for the ages.

Known to all—except me.

He’s why I came here. Crashed my Aunt’s party—finally revealing the truth in my identity to the man I so yearn to know.

He’s guarded. Nervous around me.

Busying calculating thoughts with case files—sifting through countless folders. Whisking uncertain fingers through silky strands of chestnut hair.

I’ve ached to know him since I can remember. Raced through the streets; using the speed we have in common to seek out closeness.

He appears uncertain. Finding reasons to avoid my curiosities. Wary of my eagerness to merely learn about him.

Tucked under piles of fuzzy blankets, I ponder the man I recognize. Hunched over paperwork, guided by the low light of a lamp, noticing the soft contours of his cheeks, shadowed in the light.

Dark shadows rim either of his eyes, strands of hair stick up in odd places, as he hastily sips coffee from his mug.

Even from across the room, I recognize how thinly he has stretched himself. Divvying up his time, between being a CSI, and The Flash.

Spread so thin, he can barely function.

He’s noticeably handsome in the dim light, and so young—not yet ready to be a father, yet once he is—he disappears.

I’ve slept each night as far back as I can recall, with a weathered picture of him tucked underneath my pillow. I’ve studied his relaxed features, loved him, longed to just know his love—just once bond with him.

Finally, I’ve met him, but the connection is strained. I feel him holding back from the bond I know he feels.

Strong, magnetic pulls are transparent between us. When the draw of warm arms coil around my middle, I am engulfed by the burst of nectar scent Mom told me about. And electrified, by his current.

We’re speedsters.

We’re one with each other.

I want him to understand that I’ve loved him for as long as I knew what that word meant.

But the pull is unnatural, twisted in a way. Enough to churn the pit of my stomach until the familiar tingle of warmth rushes to my lower half.

It’s why I am awake. Eying the distracted figure of my father, hunched over grazing a pen across paper. Scribbling constant notes to be filed away at his lab.

Subtly, I squeeze my thighs inward, stifling a sigh of unrest as I feel the jolt of need spark just there, where no man  has ever touched me.

I’ve prodded down there myself. Searched for pleasure with one hand, whilst the other would hold the crinkled paper of the picture I have of him.

Naval blue sweater vest, and dark jeans clad—hugging his hips. The twinkle in his eyes—the familiar warmth has always driven need. Compelled lust.

Of course there is shame after. Perhaps if I had known him—had even a single memory of him—I might not be so tempted to kiss those pink things for myself.

Mom has kissed them so often, in front of me since I’ve been back. It sends a jolt of quiet jealousy right through me. Even now I wonder what it would be like to lay with a fellow speedster. A man that carries my DNA.

Squeezing once more, a shudder cascades up my spine. Despite the fact that he took Mom’s side over mine, I cannot stay mad at him forever. The tug is far too strong for that.

As a fellow speedster it stung that he deemed Mom’s decision warranted. Being lied to; denied a piece of myself—it was all too much for me to merely let go of. It burned to recall him sided against me. That protective piercing gaze, guarding the woman he loved.

His Iris. My mom.

Drawing back the fuzzy blankets, I shifted off the sunken-in couch. Knowing Mom was long past asleep I tucked my arms around the back of Dad’s neck.  Drinking in the essence I am beginning to familiarize myself with.

I’ve noticed they haven’t had relations since I’ve taken to spending each night on their couch. Noises from the bedroom are limited to creaks of mattress springs. When Dad does climb into bed, it’s always well after Mom’s asleep.

Always.

Jolting from my touch, I hear his breath quicken, feel the intense beat of his heart race.

“Dad, You should be resting.” Feigning concern  I slid my palm across one of his pecks, through his shirt. Hard, warmed muscle greeting me though the fabric.

“I thought you were asleep.” Lowering his coffee mug, it laid against the tablecloth. Pen dropping loosely onto the sheets of paper in his files.

“I don’t want to sleep just yet.” Breathing his air, hovering this close, made the tingle worsen. I squeezed my thighs again. Alleviating the tension, whilst causing friction.

One hand entwined around my wrist. Stilling the digits on his warm peck.

“I’m very busy, Nora. Try to sleep, won’t you?” Giving my hand’s back the slightest kiss; he then released it.

Not expecting the kiss, nor the touch, pleasure jolted to the furthest corners of my frame.

Delicate fingers drew lower. Inching toward the muscle of his abs—the buckle of his belt.

“You’re avoiding me, Dad.” Calling him out, boldly, I listened.

Waited for the sound of denial to emerge from tightening lips. Stiffness coursed through each muscle. I felt tension build, thick in the air.

“I’m really not, Nora. I have a lot of work to do, Okay?” I heard the tremor in his voice. Felt the waves in the air. He was lying. He felt it too.

“Yes, You really are, Dad.”

I decided to change tactics when I heard a frustrated sigh rumble in his throat.

“You’re uncomfortable around me. You tense up—You’re nervous.” I clenched my fingers around the base of his shoulder. Letting the tension be worked through with a nimble grip.

Although he fought it at first; eventually he leaned into my touch. His guard lowering slightly. Just enough.

I gripped him in his trousers—firm—vibrating my hand. Just the muscles in that hand.

I was greeted by a surprised noise from his throat. He arched into my hand. Arcing up to meet the vibrations, tenting out the front. Bulging outward.

“Stop….Nora….Stop…” Desperate pleas whined from the back of his throat. Unintentionally, vibrations began radiating off of his frame.

“I know you feel it. The electricity.”

Ignoring shaky words, he vibrated. “I love your Mom. My wife….Nora….”

I hesitated.

Stilling the vibrations; wishing to ignore the magnetic pull towards deviant acts. Still, swollen petals met the pulse point on soft skin. Hand stilled against hard flesh, as the beating of both of our hearts synced as one.

“Am I not pretty? Like Mom?” Insecurity hovered inside. Memories from my past, surging as I recalled the clasp of pain constrict around my heart, each time Mom prettied up in the mirror.

Applied pink lip gloss, royal blue eye shadow, a flickering sequin dress. I’d always felt inadequate. Overshadowed by such beauty.

“You’re beautiful…” Scrambling for words; tension resurfaced between us.

“Mom can’t touch you…not like I can.”  Before I could demonstrate a second time; he used his speed to stand, drawing my hand clear of his private place.

“Dad…” I all but whined, as he stepped clear. Breaking the electricity in the air, spiraling the downfall within.

“Nora…I’m sorry I’m not there for you. I’m sorry that I never get to be your father…But I…I can’t be what you want me to be. I won’t.” Cementing the breakage of my heart, I broke before his eyes.

Tears welled. Skin tingled. I wanted to fall. To give up; right there. Then.

I’d dreamed of kissing him. Being in his arms. Having the man Mom gushed about. The way she spoke of him made it seem as though no man could ever compare.

Made time almost stop.

Kindness clad-eyes, sensitive, sweet smile. Warm, muscled arms. Gentle, yearning touch.

I’d never had those things. But Mom had.

She’d promised I’d find those things one day.

One day…

Snot clogged my nose. Tears blurred my vision, and time itself stood still.

“I just wanted a part of you. One part.” I managed, through sniffles.

I saw the sympathy in that empathetic gaze. The gentle soul, Mom spoke of, was hovering just there. Waiting to break out.

“You have a part of me. You were create by my love. You carry my speed…You are a part of me.” Inching nearer, those muscled arms wound around my frame.

I clung hold for dear life. Fearing if I retracted—I’d lose him again.

I don’t know how I can return, knowing that once I do, I’ll never see my Dad again. Never know him. Always mourn him.

Tremoring digits wound into the strands of chestnut locks. Hair that mirrored Dad’s. The press of heated frames, permitted me to feel the bulge of him. Still outlining the denim. Throbbing, despite all that had been said.

Pressed tight against my abdomen, excitement still pooled between my thighs. Lust still compiled in my core. I didn’t want to let go.

“I saved myself. For you.” Admitting a shameful truth, I burrowed my face tight into his neckline.

Grip tightening around me; the excitement pulsed deeper within him. I felt it.

Retracting just enough, I tilted up my chin. Connecting our petals with ease. Lost to the moment, rough thumb pads brushed the curve of cherubic cheeks. Mouths part, tongues explored. I whimpered. Shuddering against his firm touch. Tasting his lips.

Sinking into the perfect first kiss. Electricity coursed between us. Power I’d never felt previously shot down, right to my core. Panties clad with wetness, that seeped in. My temperature rising with the beat of my heart.

Shame would eat me alive tomorrow; but tonight I dove headfirst.

My skin singing to life, as his moan vibrated my petals. Swallowed by my mouth, eagerly tangling with his. Learning. Exploring, with his.

Dainty fingers looped around black-leather, unlatching the clasp of his belt. Dragging it out through the hoops. Listening to the clatter right onto the floor. Mom could come out of the bedroom. She might hear this; hear us—But I didn’t care.

She’d had so many nights with, Dad. All I wanted was one.

Tension radiated through to his core, I felt him fighting this electricity. This passion. Pushing the metal-button through the hole, I opened his jeans. Fingers gripping hesitantly to the throbbing flesh, just within checkered plaid boxers.

He pulsed, body vibrating with sheer-clad need.

Hasty fingers gripped my shirt, dragging up the heat of my flesh. Just underneath the skimpy raven-black tank top. Brushing the pointed-pink of my nipple. The sensation dragging straight down to my center.

“Dad…Please…” Yanking on the erect flesh between his thighs, he squirmed.

Grunted. And hoisted my feet from the floor.

One blink had my back against the rumpled couch. Thighs spread instinctively, skin pulsing with blood as my heart raced. Two speedsters, becoming one—held an intensity. A spark that was indescribable.

I barely felt him tear apart my shorts—panties in his haste. I retracted my hand from his boxers. Felt pre coating the inside of those checkered boxers. This wasn’t the first time he’d been aroused this day.

“Just tonight.” Hot breath met the skin of my neck. Kisses flourished over the stretched length of my neck. Vibrating digits wormed down, brushing just over the swollen button, just there between my thighs.

Crying out, back arching, I met with those fingers. Came undone within seconds, juices gushed onto his hand.

Lightening streaks blazed in the whites of his eyes. One thrust had him infused with me. Exposed length of his need, sheathed in the sanctuary of my sex. Cries emerged, skin joining, as a high pitched noise came from his throat.

Our lips crashed together, hearts racing in sync, the world stilled as we entered Flashtime. Each thrust grew in intensity; the break of my hymen, barely stung. I could feel all that he felt. Be all that he was. We came together, and sparks lit the night.

Static clung to our skin; kisses merged, wetting our lips, swelling them with proof of sheer lust in the moment.

Thinking was impossible. Drawing away; even more so. I wanted to be one with him. Always. To never lose him again. To never be without him. I cupped his cheek. Dragged my thumb to the skin. Tasted deeper. Basked in the infinite sensations. Felt the clutch of deft fingers.

Thrusts increased. His body beginning to vibrate. I vibrated in sync. Increasing the sensation by five thousand times. Indestructible bliss fused into every atom of my form. One arch had me coming undone. Streams of release wetting his pelvis, coating my thighs.

Mouthing, hot, wet kisses just at my nape, he too, came. Seed spilling within. Holding that one delicate position. As time returned. Exhaustion settled in.

The ache quenched; after years of being impacted by it. Still, I did not want to let him go.

Never wanted to let go.

Long moments passed. I held my breath.

Minutes later, the nuzzle of flesh right against my side, made me realize I had released him.

I’d let go.

Entwining our fingers, heavy breathing lessened. Taut skin, relaxed after the bliss of release. Juices coated our lower halves. Hot, sticky seed wet the lips of my flower.

“Was it everything you imagined it would be?” Barely whispered words broke the silence.

Darkened pools rested on the features of his face. “It was more than I could have imagined, Dad.”

He flinched at the title, fingers stilling against my own.

“I promised I would never cheat on Iris…Never hurt her.” Disappointment settled onto his face. Darkening his gaze. Imposing on the afterglow.

I downcast my gaze. “She won’t know…What we did.” I promised him.

“I’ll know, Nora. I’ll always know.” Sitting up, he inched to the couch’s edge. Head resting in cupped hands. Hiding wounded features from view.

We’d both lost ourselves to the electric bond between us. Like a tether; it drew tight. I pushed for the connection. Embraced it, because it was there all my life. From the first moment I saw his face in that weathered photograph, I’d known how completely I desired him.

Soft fingers traced the regions of his back. Brushing the muscle of his shoulder, down the vertebrae of his spine. Attempting to console, what I had broken in him in my selfishness.

The bond between us, was strained now.

He retracted from my touch. Lowering both hands, redness coated either eye.

“Dad…” Everything I feared was transpiring. I was losing him.

“I-I need time, Nora. I’m sorry.” Clothing himself in a flash, the door slammed as he rushed out of it.

Leaving tears coating my cheeks. Wisps of hair blowing in the breeze he caused in his departure.

Sobs broke through; as I contemplated what I’d done.

What I’d caused.

Gathering the blankets around my frame—I sobbed into them.


	2. Part 2; Reparations of the Lost

_Part 2; Reparations of the Lost_

 

* * *

 

> _How do I say I miss you_
> 
> _in a way that will make_
> 
> _your heart ache as_
> 
> _mine does?_

 

* * *

 

Days passed in slow motion.

That night; I’d not slept a wink. Tears had fallen all through until light shown through the slatted blinds.

The distance only widened between us, over those days. He found every conceivable reason to avoid time alone with me.

Granted, Central City was always in need of saving, what with, thieves, vandals, and the general scourge of the Earth flocking here. We kept busy.

He didn’t meet my eyes. I never met his.

When I finally had time to think on our transgressions, I was ashamed to have seduced him. To know that Mom would never forgive us if she knew.

We trained to keep up appearances. Always under the watchful eye of Cisco, or Caitlyn. We were never alone.

At night he was notably absent from the kitchen table. No telltale light shone from a desk lamp. I suspected he worked casefiles within the sanctuary of his lab, in order to avoid my gaze.

Nights were the loneliest.

I felt the absence of him everywhere. Remembered the heated kisses, we’d stolen. Felt the bursts of electricity that came with the force of joining together. Even felt the burn of desire, peak just underneath my skin.

Sometimes, instead of finding sleep on the lumpy couch, I’d run. Anywhere—Everywhere.

As long as I didn’t have to think about him. It worked.

Any time I felt the memory of that night creeping in, I ran. Immediately. Right off the couch, into the night. Until  I couldn’t run anymore.

Like tonight.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, the night chill catapulting up my spine. Sending heaving jolts through every atom of my frame, until the press of lust returned.

I squeezed my thighs. Shifted on the hard, wood of the park bench. Calls of the geese were dying down as the evening set in.

A touch jolted me to fruition; eyes darting towards the disturbance. Right into the eyes of my Father.

“Dad…” I let the word falter, then die out.

I jerked my head back away. Let my eyes settle on the waterline.

Had he followed me out here? How long had he been watching? I suddenly felt self-conscious. Nervous even.

It had been three weeks since we succumbed to desire. Three long, agonizing weeks.

He sat alongside of me, without invitation.

“Nora.” A firm tone emerged from his vocals, filling the hollow air around us.

Suddenly very aware of my lack of clothes, ( a black tank top, and barely there ebony shorts were all I donned ) I hastily rubbed my goose-bumped arms.

“What do you want?” I managed. Recalling how he left me. Naked. Alone. Huddled on the couch, after claiming my virginity. That still hurt. Always would.

“I’m sorry, Nora.”

 Often I’d pictured what my Father would have been like in the ellipsis of my mind. Detailing a fantasy of warm hugs, and gentle emerald eyes to greet me when I returned from school. I imagined a love so deep—so unbreakable—that the pull would follow us wherever we might wander.

The reality was lacking.

“For which part? Leaving me naked, and alone? Or taking my virginity?” The words were biting—I wanted ( even for an instant ) for him to understand how I felt. The hurt. The self-disgust. All of it.

“Both—All of it…Nora—“ Cracking vocals cut the air. Clearly struggling for an explanation, I felt the sickening clench of my stomach muscles.

Immediate tears welled in the rims of my eyes. I stood. Inching from his reaching hand. Regarding him through clearer eyes.

“You regret me?” I countered.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. His eyes spoke volumes.

I felt like a hole had been ripped clear through my chest. I questioned every second of that night. Every feeling. Every touch. Every instant. I questioned the threshold of my own sanity. Of the needs I let guide me towards him, that night.

I felt the deep seed of betrayal settle into my bones. I regretted taking the risk of Mom finding out about what I did with Dad. I regretted the life I’d known in the future—without him—and most of all, I regretted being second to his Iris. To my Mom.

“Nora…I didn’t say that—“ The horror in my eyes must have spoken for me.

“You didn’t have to.” I raced away. I felt the electricity pulse. The emotions spike inside of me. White hot, heat boiling right into the pit of my stomach. I wanted to tear through town. To ruin every memory I had of him. I wanted to decimate the images of that night. But I couldn’t. They remained with me. My love for him was so potent, I didn’t know how to snuff it out.

I wished he could love me more than Mom. I wish he wanted what I want.

How could he regret the single most electric night of my life? How could he regret me?

I raced, and raced, until my heart was fit to burst. Until my mouth was dry. Body destabilizing from lack of food—and I had to stop.

I couldn’t win him over. I knew that now. I couldn’t win his love, his devotion. He wanted a daughter. He didn’t ask for what I needed from him. And as much as I hated myself for it—I loved him. Something was really wrong with me, because I still loved him.

 

_///_

 

Tucked into a corner of the bathroom I felt the chill of cold tile at my back. Heard the echo of lonely memories in my head. Rattling around my cranium. Screaming for release.

This wasn’t true.

Couldn’t be true.

Ten tests, all in a straight line. Piled on the tub’s ledge. Reading the same pink plus sign that was meant to signify joy. In most it would. Had he accepted the magnetic pull between us—It might even have been that way for me.

Instead, it signified pain. Fear. Loneliness.

It meant I had to leave. Mom couldn’t know what I had done. And I couldn’t look into those inquisitive optics again, as he rejected me.

Clutched tight between my fingers, was the tattered picture I always kept with me. The visage of that singular, perfect moment, of the Dad I wished so completely to know. The eclipse of his smile, the light in his eyes. A light he no longer has when he views me.

It’s been a month since he found me in the park. All but admitted to regretting that night. I can’t tell him. He can’t know.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe with the knowledge. With the impulsive decision that led to this specific moment.

I stood. Gathered all the tests, prior to shoving them into the plastic bag, where the empty boxes also laid. I couldn’t leave any evidence. Not a single spot of proof.

It was time to leave. I couldn’t follow through with the plan now. Now, I had to think about the innocent little life we made. It could no longer solely be about what I wanted—What Eobard had initiated by teaching me to travel here—It was about our child.

Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I put on a strong expression. Letting loose breaths of air come freely. And the world stilled around me. Flashtime taking hold. I searched my options. Cleared my emotions from the forefront. I couldn’t return home. Mom would never understand if I returned carrying a fatherless child.

No. The future was no longer an option. At least….not **_that_** future.

I knew where I had to go. What I had to do.

Lifting the plastic bag of evidence, I sped from the bathroom. Right out of the apartment. Onto the street. Past cars, buildings, houses. Until the portal opened.

I surged, faster than I’ve ever gone. Faster even, than Dad.

Right into the wormhole. Propelling towards the future.

I felt the pull of reality. The fight of the Speed Force as I stormed right on through. I heard memories; saw glimpses. Felt the timeline fight against me. But I understood what I needed to do. I, thankfully, didn’t encounter a time wraith as I ducked through, into the time I wished to speed to.

Finding my footing on the pavement I soaked in my surroundings. Recognizing the changes. The flying cars. Speeding trains. Bustling city streets.

I felt the wind on my face. And I took in the various scrambled scents nearby. Then I saw it—rather a him—Dad speed past.  

Red lightening left behind in his wake. Discarding the bag of tests  in the nearby trash receptacle, I sped after him. Igniting the pound in my heart. The beat in my step. The excitement of speeding towards potential catastrophes. It was such a rush.

He stilled at the scene of a fire. Black smoke, billowing from blown out windows. Screams of panic calling out from upper floors. I held back the urge to help.

Instead I watched in silent hope as he sped each victim from the burning building. Using the strength of his arms to put the fire out. Starving it of oxygen. Inciting the cheers of bystanders down below. He sped back to the sidewalk, to the cheers of Central City’s citizens.

When he sped away;  I followed.

This time; it wasn’t to STAR Labs.

It was to a run-down old warehouse. Rust accumulated on the hinges, water dripped from the roof. And in the smallest corner was a raggedy couch. Torn in places, patches of stuffing poking through. And the loneliest feel to the entire space.

His aura was different. He wasn’t light—nor filled with the sparkle I saw in his time—This version of him was lost. Broken. Reaching for a life he could never return to.

Eobard told me it was the cost of his Sacrifice. The price the Speed Force evoked from him. A chance to save all those he loved—at the cost of never returning home to them. To be the Flash—in another time.

I peeked from behind the shelves, long forgotten; loaded with unwanted stuffed toys. The pull of him was strong. His loneliness heart-wrenching.

Thirty-five years old, and alone.

He sped out of his suit, returning it to a lone hanger in the corner. I could picture Cisco having something to say about the callous way it was dangling there. In only warm pajama bottoms, and a plain white t-shirt, he settled on the couch.

Feet up on the cushions, I recognized the glisten of his wedding band still on his finger. He never took it off.

I wanted to reveal myself. To stalk out into his line of vision. But I hesitated.

What if he rejected me again? Rejected this baby? I closed my eyes. The burn was always there. Subtle. Lingering. My draw to him; our speed longing to connect. I remembered his flesh. His touch. His kiss. My memories were flooded with that one night.

So perfect to me.

So wrong to him.

I thought about leaving. Going where? I didn’t know. But then I heard it.

The subtle sound of sniffles. Tears pooled, fell down stubble clad cheeks. Hair unkempt, dangling in his line of vision, I felt another bought of sadness root me to my spot. Watched mesmerized in a mixture of sympathy, and sorrow, as his hand slid past the barrier of his undergarments. Tugging on his length, pleasuring himself to a small picture in his hand.

The image was haunting.

I recalled my own moments of weakness, reflecting back at me. Years of loneliness. Listening to stories of my hero. My Dad, cradling my Mom in muscled arms, kissing her until it felt like time had stopped. Scouring the city, saving those in need. Whilst still retaining love in his heart for all those around him. Especially Mom.

I too touched whilst holding a reflection of a person between my fingers. Craving warmth. Aching for a singular moment where I was no longer alone. The unknown daughter of The Flash. Instead, I wanted those inviting arms to hold me. Offer me everything I never had at home.

A connection to another speedster. A connection to my bloodline.

Wet, heat pooled into my cotton panties. Squeezing my thighs did little to abate the spark I felt spying on this private moment. I’d always see him as this strong, dominating figure. I never saw him falter in the past I traveled to. Never saw him appear weak; or disillusioned.

He was always a pillar of strength. Of hope.

He was everything the flash museum claimed him to be.

But this future is not documented yet. And his private life is secluded. Blocked off from everyone. In this period—he is a ghost.

A reflection of a man that once had a place. Here, he has no name. Only his alter-ego. The Flash.

And mirror images of a past he’s locked out of.

I stared; mouth opening in a pant. As he worked himself over with one hand. Moaning the soft name of the woman he loved. Iris. Another jealous stabbed worked into my heart. Still, it did not remove my empathy towards him. For the broken creature, before me.

I recalled the honey-sweet scent of his skin. The soft brush of careful touches. The urgency of each thrust as he worked himself towards climax between my thighs. We’d found a sturdy precipice deep within. And gave heart, and soul to each other.

One final grunt had him finishing. Seed spurting, a wet patch staining the front of checkered pajama pants. I recognized the tremble of tired digits. Lowering the tattered picture to rest on the couch. Another sniffle, and he wiped away the tears.

I squeezed my thighs again. Let the tension remain built inside of my frame. The nerves screaming for relief. I didn’t cave in. Not yet.

I watched as he changed, discarding the stained clothes. Settled underneath the single blanket on the couch, he closed his eyes.

Self-consciously  I smoothed the hair from my cheeks. Ignored the throbbing of my privates, and pushed forward.

Hovering over the curled figure of Dad, I watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Up close I recognized dried tear streaks upon either cheek. Sunken eyes from lack of sleep. Even, swollen redness on either cheek. The thinness of his torso, indicated his lack of self-preservation. He was not eating as often as a speedster needed to.

The pull of slumber had overtaken him. Every breath was long, slow. Every heartbeat was slower than his normal. His skin was chilled to the touch. The air was cold in this warehouse. I reckoned he hardly gave a care.

“Dad?” I uttered the single word. Twin tears curving down my cheeks, tremoring fingertips smoothing over the rough stubble on his cheek.

His listless optics cracked open. Recognition hitting his mind, but still he was slow to react. “Nora…” He spoke my name as though from afar.

Distant traces of a crack came from his parched throat. He seemed unmoved by my appearance. Unsurprised.

I furrowed my brows. “You always come back…” Soft lulls peppered his tone, contentment rounding him out. And I gawked down at him in bewilderment.

Had I visited him since the last time?  Before now for him? I couldn’t see the reason why I would.

“I don’t understand.” I whispered.

“You’re so real this time. So real…” His voice trailed off, as though caught in a memory.

“Real?” Did he dream of me? The thought made my heart skip a beat.

“I broke you…Didn’t I Nora? That’s why you went away? Why you didn’t say goodbye?” My blood chilled to ice.

Tears marked my cheeks. “No…Daddy, Of course not.” I swallowed thickness in my throat.

“I was careless…So careless. I pretended I didn’t feel it...God, I felt it. I still feel it. I regretted making you go away. I’ve always regretted it.”

In a conglomeration of tears I could not prevent, I shook my head. Planted my face on his chest. This decision. This one decision, to come to a time where I might find his affection to greet me, had dampened his spirit. It wasn’t losing everyone that evoked this brokenness in him—It was losing me.

Those muscled arms entwined around me. Holding me as I cried. Soothing me through the tears; through the strain. And I felt what Mom told me about. The undying love. The devotion. I felt it all, pooling off of him.

Regret. Sadness. Fear. Loneliness.

I felt drained.

“I’m not a dream, Daddy. It’s me. I’m here. This is real.” Pleading with him to recognize the truth in my words.

The grip around my middle tightened. The seal around his mind cracking open. And I saw the true recognition light his optics.

“You **_are_** here.” I wiped my tears, giving a nod.

He drew me in closer, refusing to let go. We remained like that for an extended length of time. He sat up on the couch. I shifted to straddle his lap.

Almost like magic, I felt him warm. The icy touch, melting away, returning a burning ignition underneath his skin.

“I had to leave, Dad. And I couldn’t tell you why.” I traced the stubble of his jaw, feeling the slight jut, with my index finger.

He kneaded the dip of my waist on either side. I almost moaned with satisfaction. I squirmed my hips;  the rush of arousal still present down there. Especially where my apex met his flaccid bulge.

“If not what I did, then why? Why did you leave, Nora?” His breath was uneven, fingers proceeding to distract my sensitive flesh.

The knowledge of this pregnancy came with the growth of my arousal. The blood would rush right down to that little pleasure bud and I would have to touch. It was explosive when I came. Mind-blowing. Then there was the lack of my monthly bleeding. No period. The slight tenderness of my breasts to the touch and swift rejection of food at odd hours of the day.

I struggled to grapple with an idea. A single thought. He wasn’t even touching a private place. Not even kneading me to arouse me—and yet…I felt like a bitch in heat all the same.

I vibrated on top of him. The cells in my body singing for him.

He moaned. Unused to a woman’s touch. A warm flush bodice against his own touch-starved form. He’d been in this place near on a year. Which explained his own frustrations.

“Nora….” My name drew me back.

I opened my eyes. Ceasing my vibrations.

I grasped his hand, planting it flush to my belly.

“I am with child, Dad. **_Your_** child.”

I saw his muscles pull taut. Skin pale, eyes dart down towards the space our child lay nestled. I wasn’t showing yet. But I could sense that little life. I sensed its connection to the Speed Force. To this life.

“We…Nora…” Shock remained etched into his features. I felt the struggle within. “And you came….here?”

“You couldn’t love me then? You had Mom…She wouldn’t have forgiven us. I knew I couldn’t stay, it would have broken you up. It would have prevented my birth…” I reasoned. “Don’t you see? You’ve been given another chance…To be a Father. You can see all of its firsts. You can be there to love it. It won’t come from a broken home, like we did.”

I felt the struggle. The fear in him. So many emotions. The possibilities.

Soft rubs of his thumb brushed my abdomen through the t-shirt. He was silent as the dead. Contemplative. Unresponsive.

Finally, I leaned in, tangling our lips together. Tasting the essence of him. Dragging my tongue along his lower petal, shocking him.

He responded in kind, winding his arm around my middle he drew me flush to him. The absence of touch for so long made him pliant underneath delving fingers. He was more willing to cave in to debauchery. To sin.

Anything to make the ache leave him. And despite his inability to let go of his familiar life—to let go of Iris—that life was gone for good.

“I need to feel you again, Dad. Please.” I would reduce to begging if it softened his resolve. I was screaming inside for our coupling. He made a nearly inhuman sound in his throat, when I gripped him just there, where a bulge tented his pajama pants.

The thin flannel did nothing to shield his most aching part from my kneading fingers. He vibrated with excitement underneath me. His cells all but coming apart against my skin. One plea, was all it took.

Flipping us, my back met the couch. Our lightening intertwining as we entered Flashtime. Every kiss was heightened, every graze of skin. Our clothes were shed in a blur of passion.  I barely felt the fabric leave us.

Searching fingers found the pink rose-buds of my nipples. I felt the pleasure stream right down to my clitoris. Spiking my arousal ten-fold.  The pleats of my sex were dripping with wetness. Throbbing whilst pleading to be filled.

As though he felt that pull—he complied.

Sheathed back inside of me, I cried out.

Nails digging into his skin. Marking his back. He made a grunt of pleasure. Then bit into my neck. If I were human alone, I’d be bruised; he’d have scabs. We healed too quickly to do lasting damage to one another.

The way he rutted between my thighs, was like a deprived animal. Without conscious thought—there was only overwhelming need.

I lost track of how many times I came. Even of how many times I squirted for him. The night settled, and we were a mess. Sticky batches of his seed coated my thighs. My wetness coated him, the couch cushions, everything. Sweat clung our skin together. And I laid in the curve of his arm.

This time there was no regret in his eyes. Only contentment. I wished this had been our first time. I promised myself, I’d remember it as our first.

There were no tears. No pain. Just love.

Pure love.

As I dwindled to sleep in his warm embrace, I felt the lazily rubbed circles just around the base of my abdomen. A kiss planted to my clavicle as warm blackness overtook me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I am sorry this took so very long. I have had a massive case of writers block lately! I will be continuing this story however, and at the moment I am not certain how many parts I plan to add for this! So stay tuned, and thank you for your patience!_

**Author's Note:**

> _I am uncertain how many parts I plan to have for this tale! I originally planned to make it a one-shot, but I want to pursue more story than just a one, and done with these two._


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